User blog comment:Biggren/Silvir Shadows/@comment-3135907-20161105020331/@comment-3135907-20170117232701

The boat was of either recent make or, more likely, old but remarkably skilled craft; it glided off beneath solitary rabbit and traveler squirrel with a certain spunk, like a mallard after fish.

The wide open Moss was theirs!

Lerro mopped his forehead and scratched his ears with a rag and breathed in the cool, riverbank air, as though that were his only admission of dependency on anything or anyone but himself.

He begrudged the air, too- it wasn't his fault he had to breathe, and he didn't like it, anyway.

The flow of the water and the stroke of the paddles, combined with the chirp of birds that he vaguely understood, as archaic as it was, had a calming effect on the old rabbit.

"Whear ye fruim, Astrix? 'D suin as no' know; I cain't abide smeall talk."